After an evening on the "town", we spent our nights just hanging out, reading and relaxing. One evening, Dad decided to coax some real steps out of Brooklyn. She tottered over to him - wobbly, but determined! We clapped and cheered and she grinned and giggled and kept doing it! To me, to RanDad, to me, to RanDad...

My little baby is growing up!!! Now that we're home, she is back to her knee scoot, but every now and then she'll "perform". She knows she can, but has yet to make it her primary mode of transport. Why walk when you can be carried? Or scooch faster than the speed of light?